Friday 25 September 2015

Chevrolet…

the Winter’s past…
your pictures still doesn't rust…
imaginations stick…
love often hurts…
like a melrose…
with stingy kisses…
but still..
i keep on dedicating..
all my breaths..
the entirety of my intelligence…
in praying to you…
for when whispers shudder in angst…
you come as the Chevrolet triumphant…
galloping through the sinister gaze..
and saying my defective soul….
as if last night’s indiscretions
was just a drop of
mindless vacuum..
on an ocean of …
fertile blood…

Guilty ….

Forks and knives…
trespasses denied..
quite pedantic your breath…
quite Epicurus my replies…
so many shades of fabric…
cover thy space..
between yours and mine ..
infinite…
so much purity…
ridiculed…
foreclosed..
bankrolled by the paid masters of anarchy divine…
to be a barrier forever…
between your and mine smiles…
but i have taken a decision…
it was a consensus..
of broken bones..
and ash littering in toxic grime…
that i will commit thy crime…
of immigration…
and break across all walls…
and taint with a trillion combinations of passions..
all that fictitious white…
for i want to be dirty under the august watch..
of dearest Athena Prime…
for i want to be guilty…
of limitless negligence…
of that enforced merciless..
tiring pain of a censured..
sunshine…


                      Flesh….

So many signals…
so many intercessions gloriously opined…
so many threads to stitch …
so many corners to get lost into..
with a capricious smile….
it’s as precious…
as pearls just birthed..
from the bosoms of the cosmic skies…
it’s as intimate..
as the morning calls …
of the mischievous bluebirds…
in sings like the Lyra of Osiris…
it cries like the never ending tears of Hades…
it opines with the conviction of Dugan…
it dreams without any recharge…
like the conscience of the ever gypsy
ever shadowy fruit flies…
it's smooth…
like the polished pebbles from Santorini…
it’s as rough…
as the coarse replies …
from the earth’s finite…
it’s nothing but flesh..
sweet yet harmful…
gusty yet perniciously fragile…
poetic..
yet often torments more..
than the thousand lashes ..
of Acacia hides….
it’s nothing but skin…
so translucent..
so ripe..
yet embracing within it…
the impact of a billion
moments of memories ..
forever to be worshiped…
in the altars of ever gracious
Rhine…
it's after all an inseparable part..
of the ever benevolent night…

Short Reminiscences..

Trash forgotten…
letters recycled..
ink wasted…
many a prayer spend without rationale…
yet one could always augur…
from the point of the intimate cosine..
that all those patchy..
short reminiscences of randomness..
spend together…
in between hands..
in between sheets..
in the midst of radiant eyes…
where worth…
all the incessant rebellion…
for those were indeed…
the best portions…
of a pretty demanding ..
existence…
Yet they were so short…
so bereft of honest time…
that i strive to keep it secure…
away from God’s prying devious..
introspection…
lest they are taken away..
from me…
as remission..
for all my acts of unsolicited..
humanity…

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